


Riptide

by laurenkinn



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Beach Sex, Bottom Yuri Plisetsky, Consensual Underage Sex, Frottage, I guess Yuri is technically underage, Kissing, M/M, Otabek shows him who's boss, Post-Grand Prix Final, Teasing, Top Otabek Altin, Vacation, Yuri briefly thinks he's hot shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-05
Updated: 2017-09-05
Packaged: 2018-12-24 01:57:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12002523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laurenkinn/pseuds/laurenkinn
Summary: “Yuri, this is probably not the place,” he mutters, detaching wrinkled fingers from Yuri’s hips and splashing cool water onto his face.  Yuri snickers and once more cants his hips forward.  He leans in, his blond hair ghosting across Otabek’s face, and whispers in Otabek’s ear, “That’s why it’s so much fun.”(Or the one fic where Otabek and Yuri do some naughty shit underwater and get caught.)





	Riptide

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first YOI fic and I had an immense internal struggle trying to decide what I wanted from it, but it eventually took control and decided for itself. I did not have this fic beta'd, so any mistakes are all me and I am so sorry! I'm currently unsure if I want to continue this story or leave it as a one-shot, so kudos/comments/encouragements are always appreciated! Thank you!

“God, they’re disgusting.”

Otabek looks up at Yuri from his book, frowning, and follows the blond’s glare across the sand and to the water.

“I mean, honestly, why don’t they just rent a room? They’re all over each other,” Yuri continues, his mouth forming into what appears to be a pout. Otabek chuckles.

“I think it’s kind of sweet,” he remarks, returning his attention to the book in his hands. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Yuri throw him an incredulous look.

“Beka,” Yuri starts, his tone already on the defensive, “how is anything about them sweet? I feel like all they do all day every day is kiss. They probably fuck, too. Ugh.” At this, Yuri shudders, despite the ninety-degree heat. Otabek sighs, turning the page corner down and tossing the book on top of his bag a few feet away. His gaze returns to the pair of men making a very public display of affection in the shallow water at the edge of the sand. Yuuri Katsuki and Viktor Nikiforov - professional figure skaters, just like he and Yuri, currently in vacation mode after the Grand Prix Finals.

“We didn’t have to come, you know,” Otabek reasons with Yuri, not taking his eyes off the two men holding hands and laughing further down the beach. “We could’ve stayed in the hotel.”

“What, and let them have all the fun?” Yuri scoffs. He kicks off his shoes and stands, and Otabek’s mouth goes dry as Yuri strips his pants and shirt off, revealing a lithe, toned abdomen and a slightly-too-small pair of swim trunks underneath. “Help me put sunscreen on my back, would you?”

Otabek swallows and swears everyone on the beach probably heard it. His legs feel wobbly as he stands and takes the proffered bottle out of Yuri’s hand, opening the cap and squeezing. He hesitates, drinking in the smooth, pale skin of Yuri’s back, before rubbing his hands together and spreading the substance on it. Yuri jumps a little at his touch.

“Cold?” Otabek asks, but Yuri just shakes his head. A few seconds later, Otabek gives Yuri’s shoulder a pat and sits back down in his chair under the umbrella.

“Oh, no,” Yuri says, turning around and looking at Otabek. “You’re coming in the water with me.”

“Ugh,” Otabek groans, squinting up at the blonde. “Do I have to?”

“Yes,” Yuri states. “What would happen if a shark bit me, or if I started to drown? Always better to bring a friend.”

_Friend_. Otabek replays the night before in his mind, the way Yuri fell apart with every touch, the way he sighed Otabek’s name like a prayer. Probably not something _friends_ would do.

Otabek sighs. He knows he can’t argue with Yuri Plisetsky. Nobody can. Yuri always gets his way. Resigning himself to the sunburn he will no doubt get, Otabek stands back up and pulls his shirt over his head. He catches Yuri staring at his bare chest, just for a millisecond, before turning towards the water and stepping out from under the umbrella.

“Ouch!” Yuri exclaims, jerking his foot back into the relative coolness of the shade. “When did it get so fucking hot?”

Otabek laughs. “It’s been hot the whole time. Your delicate Russian skin just can’t take it.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Yuri grumbles. “It’s not like you’re a stranger to cold weather.” This time, when he walks into the sand, he flinches but doesn’t complain. Otabek grins and follows him down to the water. He can’t help but laugh when Yuri stalks past Viktor and Yuuri, both of whom call out greetings to him.

“Otabek!” Viktor exclaims. “What is wrong with Yurio? Is he angry at me?”

“Isn’t he always angry?” Yuuri mumbles. Otabek smiles.

“Not always,” he replies softly. Viktor and Yuuri regard him with puzzled stares and Otabek ignores them, heading into the water behind Yuri. He hisses when the cold water laps against his ankles, his knees, rising higher up his body as he continues. The muscles in his abdomen clench in slight discomfort. Steeling himself, he dives in headfirst. As he comes up spluttering, he hears a laugh from a few feet away. Wiping the water from his eyes, he glares at Yuri.

“I guess my delicate Russian skin is more accustomed to the cold than yours, isn’t it?” Yuri teases. Otabek scowls. He floats onto his back and kicks water in Yuri’s direction, belatedly realizing the blond has disappeared underwater. Otabek waits for a few seconds for Yuri to come up, his heart starting to beat a little faster when he doesn’t see the golden head resurface. He takes in a deep breath and is about to dive underwater when something grabs his ankles and pulls down. He yelps, disappearing beneath the surface of the cold liquid, preparing to kick whatever is down there. His actions come to a screeching halt when long, toned legs wrap around his waist. He floats to the surface, coming face-to-face with Yuri, who puts his hands on Otabek’s shoulders and smirks.

“Fuck, Yura,” Otabek grumps, gripping Yuri’s hips and drifting to an area where his feet touch the ocean floor. “You could’ve gotten yourself kicked.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Yuri murmurs. “But I’m a quick swimmer, and clearly you’re not.”

“What!” Otabek exclaims, preparing to give an impassioned speech in his own defense, but his words trail away when Yuri leans forward and presses their lips together. Otabek freezes for a second, his mind drifting to all the people on the beach that will no doubt recognize the two of them as professional figure skaters. There could be paparazzi. He can just see them on the front page of the tabloids, stealing all the attention from Viktor and Yuuri. He feels Yuri hesitate and realizes he’s taken too long to react. He gulps. Throwing all caution to the wind, he melts into the kiss, opening his mouth and slanting his head for better access. Yuri’s legs around his waist tighten and he feels his cock twitch in interest. Yuri must feel it too, judging from the soft moan that escapes his lips to disappear down Otabek’s throat. Yuri breaks the kiss, breathing harder than before, and meets Otabek’s eyes. He grins, his green eyes sparkling with what Otabek knows to be arousal.

“You’re getting hard,” Yuri teases, pointing out the obvious. Otabek huffs a laugh and his grip on Yuri’s hips hardens fractionally.

“Maybe I am,” he answers playfully. Yuri raises one delicate eyebrow.

“Are you trying to tease me, Altin?” he purrs. “Because if you are, you need to know that two can play at that game.” As if to emphasize his point, Yuri grinds his hips into Otabek so that their cocks rub through the fabric of their respective swimsuits. Otabek gasps, his eyes fluttering shut and head lolling back. Yuri takes the opportunity and latches on to the brunette’s neck, nipping and sucking small red marks into the wet skin. Pale, skinny fingers thread their way into Otabek’s hair, tugging lightly, keeping his neck bared. Otabek shudders. He once more recalls the previous night in his hotel room, Yuri sneaking in well past midnight with nothing but a robe on and a bottle of vodka in hand. He had clawed red welts into Otabek’s back as they rutted into the mattress. He was insatiable, demanding even, and Otabek fucking loved it. His Russian, always wanting to be in charge; but Otabek had shown him that sometimes it’s okay not to be so overzealous and confident, and he had taken Yuri apart piece by piece until he was a quivering mess. Underneath that hard exterior, Yuri was a submissive kitten, begging Otabek to fuck him harder until they both came, mouths crashing together roughly-

“Beka?” Yuri questions, and Otabek blinks. “You okay?”

“What?” Otabek rasps, gazing into Yuri’s eyes. “What, yeah, I’m fine.”

“You sure about that?” Yuri asks, a hint of a smile dancing at the corners of his mouth. “You uh, you were kinda moaning pretty loud.”

Otabek flushes, glancing around the beach. He notices they’ve floated away from their original point of entry, but even so, he sees a few parents glaring at them while shooing their children out of the water. He grimaces.

“Yuri, this is probably not the place,” he mutters, detaching wrinkled fingers from Yuri’s hips and splashing cool water onto his face. Yuri snickers and once more cants his hips forward. He leans in, his blond hair ghosting across Otabek’s face, and whispers in Otabek’s ear, “That’s why it’s so much fun.”

“Fuck,” Otabek growls, and before he really realizes what he’s doing he claims Yuri’s mouth in a hard kiss. Yuri moans and opens up willingly, allowing Otabek full access, their tongues dancing against one another in a vie for domination. Otabek’s hands grasp Yuri’s hips again then come around to knead his ass. Yuri pitches his hips forward in slow, fluid movements, and Otabek grunts with each brush of the blond’s cock against his, feeling his control slipping away.

“Yura,” he gasps, “if you keep this up I’m going to come.”

“Good,” Yuri whispers. He leans forward so that their foreheads touch and continues his frustratingly languid thrusts, arms wrapped lazily around Otabek’s neck. Otabek squeezes his eyes shut. For a brief moment, he feels like he is the only one so close to coming, but when he opens his eyes he realizes that he is very, very wrong. Yuri’s eyes are closed, mouth hanging open, small, barely audible cries clawing their way out of him. Otabek removes a hand from Yuri’s ass and reaches up to tangle his fingers into the long, blond hair so different from his own. He yanks back, probably a little harder than he had intended, and is rewarded with a choked groan. His lips find Yuri’s pulse beating under the pale skin of his neck and he grazes his teeth over it. Yuri bucks into him with a gasp.

“God- goddammit, Beka,” he curses. Otabek chuckles.

“My, how the tables have turned,” he teases. Slowly, he moves the one hand still digging into Yuri’s ass and snakes it into the back of Yuri’s swimsuit. He slides a finger in between the cheeks and presses it against Yuri’s entrance, earning a hoarse cry in response.

“Yes, yes, _yes, Beka, please_ ,” Yuri moans, and it’s all the encouragement Otabek needs. He pushes and the finger moves past the tight ring of muscle and into the heat of Yuri’s body. Yuri keens, and Otabek marvels at how responsive he is. He doesn’t waste much time before pushing in another finger. His other hand releases Yuri’s hair and he brings his thumb around to press against Yuri’s bottom lip. Much to his surprise (and arousal), Yuri sucks the digit into his mouth and swirls his tongue around it. His eyes open halfway to meet Otabek’s and _fuck_ , he looks absolutely wrecked, debauched, sucking on Otabek’s thumb out in the midst of hundreds of people. Otabek practically feels his pupils grow in size. He roughly adds a third finger inside Yuri, giving him barely any time to adjust before pulling out and shoving them back in. Yuri grunts but takes it in stride, continuing his ministrations on Otabek’s thumb while maintaining eye contact. Otabek swallows and once more withdraws his fingers before slamming them back in, this time curling them and nudging the bundle of nerves deep inside Yuri. He pulls his thumb out of Yuri’s wet heat and covers his mouth, stifling Yuri’s cry.

“Mommy, what are they doing?” Otabek hears a small voice ask uncertainly. His heart skips a beat and he glances sideways to see a mother and little girl floating a few feet away, staring at them.

“You fucking disgust me,” the women spits, but Otabek is too far gone to care. As the mother drags her daughter out of the water and back up the beach, Otabek turns to look into Yuri’s eyes and removes his hand from Yuri’s mouth to place it on his lower back.

“Better make this quick, love,” he murmurs. “Think you can do that for me? Think you can come on my fingers?” He accentuates his words by rutting his hips into Yuri’s, hard, and speeding up the thrusts of his fingers. Yuri practically wails, and Otabek captures the sound with a kiss as he rams his fingers into Yuri’s prostate over and over. His hand remains steady on Yuri’s back, giving him leverage to rock their hips together. The lips on his become lazy, small pants puffing against his face. Yuri wraps his legs more tightly around Otabek and begins to bounce lightly. After a few jabs to his prostate, Otabek feels Yuri tighten around his fingers and recognizes it as the telltale sign that Yuri is very, _very_ close.

“Come on, Yura,” Otabek croons. “Come for me.”

“Oh, fuck, _Beka_ ,” Yuri hisses, and he comes with a long groan, muscles pulsing tightly around Otabek’s fingers. The sound is so erotic, Otabek feels his climax slam into him, grunting with the sheer force of it. As he comes down he’s vaguely aware of Yuri whispering in his ear. He hears the words _so fucking hot_ and _felt so good_ and feels Yuri’s hands in his hair. He clears his throat.

“Jesus,” he breathes, then realizes his fingers are still inside Yuri and quickly removes them. Yuri whines at the loss but detaches his legs from Otabek’s waist. His movements are stiff, forcing a laugh from Otabek’s throat.

“You think this is funny?” Yuri demands. “I won’t be able to skate for a week.”

“Good,” Otabek replies. “I’ll consider it my mark on you.” He glances up and sees the woman with the little girl from earlier pointing their way, speaking very quickly to a police officer. Pretending he didn’t see them, Otabek grabs Yuri’s arm in the water and tugs.

“What?” Yuri asks.

“Cops. We should go,” Otabek says, and the two swim back towards the general location of their umbrella. As they get out of the water, Otabek notices Yuri stumble a little and laughs.

“Yeah, you’ll pay for this,” Yuri grumbles. Otabek grins.

“I’m counting on it.”


End file.
